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From Rose’s vantage point on the side of the pool, she raised her new camera, a gift from Diaz, and took a snap of the three of them laughing as he spun the pair of them in circles.
Maybe she could do something along these lines when she was ready to start working again, she thought idly as she captured more images of her babies with their father. Forget the arty stuff she’d always aspired to and just capture moments in time of pure family joy.
The love alight on Diaz’s face was as pure as their daughters’ thoughts and burned brighter than the sun.
It was a love that made her chest clench into a fist to witness.
She had no idea how she was going to make her choice at the end of the summer.
Take the girls home and break Diaz’s heart? Or stay and run the real risk of breaking her own?
* * *
Rose finally settled on what she hoped was a suitable dress for a society party, put it to one side, sat at her dressing table, and got to work on her face.
Five weeks since she’d arrived in Spain, she’d gained enough confidence with the girls’ nannies to know they’d be in safe, loving hands if she left them for an evening, and now she was preparing herself to go out into the big wide world and socialise properly for the first time in close to two years.
Having postponed their visit yet again, Diaz’s parents had finally swept into the villa that afternoon, two hours late, in a cloud of perfume and aftershave. They’d proceeded to fuss and pet and coo over their granddaughters for a whole fifteen minutes. That fussing, petting and cooing hadn’t extended to actually holding them. Camila’s excuse had been that her nails were too long to safely hold them, an assessment Rose had been entirely in agreement with—Camila Martinez’s fabulously decorated fingernails could easily be classified as lethal weapons. Julio’s excuse was that he was afraid of dropping them. However, they did both deign to place goodbye kisses to their granddaughters’ foreheads. Rose had needed to use baby wipes to gently remove the bright red lipstick stuck on their foreheads from it, something she’d done whilst still giggling over how Josie had almost ripped Camila’s dangling, blingy earring out.
It was while they’d been finishing their extremely late lunch and readying themselves to leave that they’d mentioned the party they were attending that night. A famed Spanish film director was throwing a birthday party for himself.
‘I know him,’ Rose had said before hurriedly clarifying, ‘not personally. His work.’
‘You should come. Everyone will be there,’ Camila had said, before turning to Diaz. ‘You were invited, yes?’
‘I’ve already sent my apologies,’ he’d replied coldly. ‘Rose isn’t ready to leave the girls yet.’
‘Nonsense! You want to go, don’t you, Rose? Pedro hosts thebestparties.’
Rose had tried to remember the last time she’d gone to a party. Gone anywhere that wasn’t a shop or restaurant or a place for them to enjoy as a family.
Her thoughts must have expressed themselves on her face for Diaz’s gaze had locked onto hers without expression. ‘You want to go?’
A sliver of excitement had unfurled in her belly. She’d nodded.
And that had been that. All settled.
And now here she was, the girls already tucked up in bed, getting ready for her first proper night out since Mrs Martinez’s stroke.
The dressing room door opened and Diaz came in, a towel around his waist, smelling of citrus shower gel and shaving foam. One glance was enough to make her heart bloom and her pulses surge. One glance was enough to see he still wore the tension he’d been carrying the whole day.
‘We don’t have to go if you don’t want to,’ she said. It was the first chance they’d had to talk about it. By the time his parents had gone, it had been time to bathe and feed the girls. One thing they never did, by unspoken agreement, was talk about anything slightly contentious in front of them.
He pulled a dapper suit off the railing. ‘I never said I didn’t want to go.’
‘You turned the invitation down.’ Without even mentioning it to her.
‘I didn’t want to put you under any pressure. I know how you feel about leaving the girls.’
‘They’ll be asleep. They won’t even know we’re gone.’
The royalwe.
When, Rose wondered, had it all slipped into something that was starting to feel real? Natural. Her and Diaz. Her, Diaz and their two babies. A family.
Swallowing the swell of emotion that had risen from nowhere, she added, ‘You’ve put your social life on hold since we arrived here. If you’d rather not go out with me then just say. I’m a big girl…’
He’d crossed the room to stand behind her before she could finish speaking. Hands on her shoulders, he stared at her through the mirror. ‘Don’t think like that,mi corazón. Never think like that. Yes, my social life has been on hold, but that was the choice I made so I could devote my time to you and our daughters.’ Resting his chin on the top of her head, he slid his arms around her waist. ‘Believe me, no one is happier than me that you feel settled enough here to leave the girls in the nannies’ hands for an evening.’
Maybe she could do something along these lines when she was ready to start working again, she thought idly as she captured more images of her babies with their father. Forget the arty stuff she’d always aspired to and just capture moments in time of pure family joy.
The love alight on Diaz’s face was as pure as their daughters’ thoughts and burned brighter than the sun.
It was a love that made her chest clench into a fist to witness.
She had no idea how she was going to make her choice at the end of the summer.
Take the girls home and break Diaz’s heart? Or stay and run the real risk of breaking her own?
* * *
Rose finally settled on what she hoped was a suitable dress for a society party, put it to one side, sat at her dressing table, and got to work on her face.
Five weeks since she’d arrived in Spain, she’d gained enough confidence with the girls’ nannies to know they’d be in safe, loving hands if she left them for an evening, and now she was preparing herself to go out into the big wide world and socialise properly for the first time in close to two years.
Having postponed their visit yet again, Diaz’s parents had finally swept into the villa that afternoon, two hours late, in a cloud of perfume and aftershave. They’d proceeded to fuss and pet and coo over their granddaughters for a whole fifteen minutes. That fussing, petting and cooing hadn’t extended to actually holding them. Camila’s excuse had been that her nails were too long to safely hold them, an assessment Rose had been entirely in agreement with—Camila Martinez’s fabulously decorated fingernails could easily be classified as lethal weapons. Julio’s excuse was that he was afraid of dropping them. However, they did both deign to place goodbye kisses to their granddaughters’ foreheads. Rose had needed to use baby wipes to gently remove the bright red lipstick stuck on their foreheads from it, something she’d done whilst still giggling over how Josie had almost ripped Camila’s dangling, blingy earring out.
It was while they’d been finishing their extremely late lunch and readying themselves to leave that they’d mentioned the party they were attending that night. A famed Spanish film director was throwing a birthday party for himself.
‘I know him,’ Rose had said before hurriedly clarifying, ‘not personally. His work.’
‘You should come. Everyone will be there,’ Camila had said, before turning to Diaz. ‘You were invited, yes?’
‘I’ve already sent my apologies,’ he’d replied coldly. ‘Rose isn’t ready to leave the girls yet.’
‘Nonsense! You want to go, don’t you, Rose? Pedro hosts thebestparties.’
Rose had tried to remember the last time she’d gone to a party. Gone anywhere that wasn’t a shop or restaurant or a place for them to enjoy as a family.
Her thoughts must have expressed themselves on her face for Diaz’s gaze had locked onto hers without expression. ‘You want to go?’
A sliver of excitement had unfurled in her belly. She’d nodded.
And that had been that. All settled.
And now here she was, the girls already tucked up in bed, getting ready for her first proper night out since Mrs Martinez’s stroke.
The dressing room door opened and Diaz came in, a towel around his waist, smelling of citrus shower gel and shaving foam. One glance was enough to make her heart bloom and her pulses surge. One glance was enough to see he still wore the tension he’d been carrying the whole day.
‘We don’t have to go if you don’t want to,’ she said. It was the first chance they’d had to talk about it. By the time his parents had gone, it had been time to bathe and feed the girls. One thing they never did, by unspoken agreement, was talk about anything slightly contentious in front of them.
He pulled a dapper suit off the railing. ‘I never said I didn’t want to go.’
‘You turned the invitation down.’ Without even mentioning it to her.
‘I didn’t want to put you under any pressure. I know how you feel about leaving the girls.’
‘They’ll be asleep. They won’t even know we’re gone.’
The royalwe.
When, Rose wondered, had it all slipped into something that was starting to feel real? Natural. Her and Diaz. Her, Diaz and their two babies. A family.
Swallowing the swell of emotion that had risen from nowhere, she added, ‘You’ve put your social life on hold since we arrived here. If you’d rather not go out with me then just say. I’m a big girl…’
He’d crossed the room to stand behind her before she could finish speaking. Hands on her shoulders, he stared at her through the mirror. ‘Don’t think like that,mi corazón. Never think like that. Yes, my social life has been on hold, but that was the choice I made so I could devote my time to you and our daughters.’ Resting his chin on the top of her head, he slid his arms around her waist. ‘Believe me, no one is happier than me that you feel settled enough here to leave the girls in the nannies’ hands for an evening.’
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